


don't worry, bambi.

by peter_parkr



Series: you're alright, kid. [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Kidnapping, Peter Parker Saves The Day, Peter is a Little Shit, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peter_parkr/pseuds/peter_parkr
Summary: "Well well, if it isn't Spider Boy, Iron Man's little play thing. You can't do anything by yourself, can you Stark? Gotta call in your little bitch boy to come rescue you?"Tony growled and struggled against his bonds. "Don't youdarelay a single fucking finger on him or I swear to God you will never see the outside of a prison cell again."---or: tony gets kidnapped by some bad guys. peter comes to save him and gets hurt! irondad content ensues.(this is not as dark as it sounds lol)
Relationships: Karen (Spider-Man: Homecoming) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: you're alright, kid. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1160765
Comments: 13
Kudos: 301





	don't worry, bambi.

**Author's Note:**

> hello my friends!  
> did i disappear for over a year? yes!  
> but i'm back! and continuing this series! i'm almost done the next story too :)
> 
> pls enjoy! pls leave a comment! pls go outside and drink some water!
> 
> PROMPT #7: "Kidnapped"
> 
> Warnings: swearing, guns/gunshot wound, blood/injuries, kidnapping (lol)

Peter was sitting on a fire escape, eating a turkey sandwich and enjoying the summer evening when he got the message.  
  
"Peter - you have an incoming emergency alert from Mr. Stark."  
  
_"What?!?"_  
  
Peter jumped up at Karen's interruption, dropping his meal down 16 stories to the pavement below. He tried to catch it with a web but only came back with the lettuce. _Goddamnit_.  
  
"What is it Karen?? A battle? Is it space dudes again? Does Mr. Stark need my help?" The endless possibilities raced through Peter's mind.  
  
"Mr. Stark has been kidnapped and is requesting assistance to escape. He has activated an emergency protocol via FRIDAY. You are the closest avenger to his location. I have entered his coordinates and calculated the fastest route. I have no other information at this time."  
  
Peter's heart dropped; it sounded like Mr. Stark was in serious trouble. There were a million people out there with a grudge who would love the chance to hurt him. Without his suit, Tony was just a man; a really smart man, but that won't help you when a gun is pointed to your head or you're bleeding out on the pavement.  
  
Peter banished the images from his head; he couldn't afford to be distracted right now. Mr. Stark needed help. He jumped off the fire escape and started swinging faster than he ever had in his life.  
  
"Let's do this Karen! We've got a genius to save."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Peter found himself perched atop a street pole in front of the building where Mr. Stark was apparently being held. It looked like some sort of abandoned office and was surrounded by a parking lot.  
  
Peter eyed the building warily. Looking around, he noticed a man in dark clothes standing casually outside the front door with his right hand tucked into his jacket. His eyes were shifting back and forth. Mighty suspicious.  
  
"Karen?" he whispered, "can you give me the rundown of this building? Are there any other entrances?"  
  
"The building covers about 25000 square feet and is 3 stories tall. There are windows on every level, however there is only one door, at the front of the building. I would not suggest entering this way due to the armed man guarding it."  
  
Peter rolled his eyes. "Oh c'mon, give me some credit Karen. I'm not _that_ stupid."  
  
"Pardon me Peter, but last week I watched you charge at a group of 6 armed alien criminals, alone, with no web fluid remaining in your canisters. I know who I'm dealing with."  
  
Peter scoffed. "And I lived to hear you lecture me about it! But fine. So how can I get to Mr. Stark if the only entrance is guarded?"  
  
"According to his specific coordinates, Mr. Stark is located in a basement room at the back corner of the building on the east side -"  
  
"East side, east side..." Peter mumbled, turning his head back and forth. Directions had never been his strong suit.  
  
"It's the corner closest to you."  
  
"Got it. Thanks Karen. Basement huh... any chance there's a window into that room?"  
  
"One moment, let me check... yes, there appears to be one small window near the ceiling. You could squeeze through there to enter."  
  
"Cool. Coolcoolcool. Let's, uhh, let's do that then."  
  
Peter was starting to feel a bit nervous for the first time since he dropped his sandwich; who knew what he would find in that room? What if he messed up and got Mr. Stark hurt? Or worse, killed?  
  
"Peter, there are 5 heat signatures in the building, including the man out front. It appears Mr. Stark is currently the only one in the basement room. I suggest you go now, before the others catch on."  
  
It was now or never then.

"Alright, Karen. Here goes nothing."

Carefully, Peter swung around to a street lamp behind the building. It was dark now, and he had to squint to see the basement window Karen was talking about. Peter took a deep breath, looked around, swallowed his fear, and jumped. He landed softly on his feet, crouched outside the dirty window. He tried to peer inside, but the grime and dust coating the glass made it hard to see anything.  
  
Peter undid the latches on the window quietly and fired a web over the glass. After a few seconds of pulling, he was able to pop the window pane out with ease. He froze for a few seconds to make sure no one was alerted. All he heard was a slight groan from inside the room, which he hoped like hell was Mr. Stark.  
  
Now able to stick his head in the window, Peter looked around the room. It was dingy and unfinished, with concrete flooring and walls dimly lit by a single fluorescent light. He couldn't see Mr. Stark, but he could smell blood and hear faint, raspy breaths. He was starting to get really worried.  
  
"Karen," Peter whispered, "I'm going in. Let me know if any bad guys come near the room, ok?"  
  
"You got it. Be careful, Peter."

"I always am!"

"That statement is objectively false." Karen retorted.

Peter shimmied his way in through the window head first. He crawled onto the ceiling and a few seconds later he was hanging upside-down from a web. When Peter twisted himself around, he gasped as his eyes were met with a sight that he will definitely never forget.  
  
Mr. Stark - his mentor, his hero, his friend - was chained to a wooden chair against the wall. He was unconscious and restricted by cuffs on both his hands and feet, his arms pulled tightly behind his back. He wore just his boxers and a bloodied, torn grey t-shirt. Peter briefly wondered how Tony had called for help from this tight position. Strangely, his sunglasses were still on, pushed up on top of his head... classic Tony move. Still looking fashionable while actively being kidnapped.  
  
Tony was covered in a layer of sweat and dirt. There were bruises and wounds all over his arms and legs; some seemed very deliberate, like the deep cuts lined up perfectly, while others seemed more like signs of a struggle. His other clothes were lying in a heap in the corner of the room. His head was hanging down heavily on his chest and he was breathing light, raspy breaths - which Peter was very thankful for. Any sign of life was a bonus. Mr. Stark's nose was clearly broken and he had a nasty black eye alongside some concerning blood dripping from a cut on top of his head. Frankly, he looked like shit.  
  
Peter wasn't really sure what to do next, but he knew he had to get them out of there, _fast_. These guys meant business. Peter could definitely break the cuffs with his bare hands; they were thick metal, but they didn't look reinforced in any non-human way. First things first, he had to wake Mr. Stark up without startling him.  
  
He glanced around the room to make sure the coast was clear and whispered:  
  
"Psst. Mr. Stark."  
  
No response. A little louder this time.  
  
"Pssst. Hey. Mr. Stark."  
  
The man stirred a little bit and groaned in pain. That did not sound like fun.  
  
" _Mr. Stark_. Wake _up_. C'mon, Tony..." Peter pleaded.  
  
Tony's head lolled to the other side. Peter placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave a light shake - which turned out to be a big mistake.  
  
The man suddenly started awake with a loud grunt. He lurched backwards, smacking his head hard on the concrete wall. Startled, Peter fell from his web and crumpled to the ground. _Ouch_.  
  
"Get the fuck away from me you piece of - _Peter?!"_  
  
Peter got to his feet lightly and looked at Mr. Stark with concern, putting his hands out to try to calm the man.  
  
" _Shhhhhh_. Shh shh. Hey, Mr. Stark. Are you ok?"  
  
Tony looked _really_ confused. He was slurring his words while whisper-screaming: "How'd you even get here? Am I _OK_?! I'm chained to a goddamn CHAIR in some BASEMENT, h'lf concious and bleeding -"  
  
Peter swiftly placed a hand over Mr. Stark's mouth. The man frowned indignantly but was silent. Peter continued whispering.  
  
"Ok! Okok. Listen, we gotta get you outta here. There's bad dudes all over this building and theres a 200% chance that they heard us."  
  
Tony nodded in agreement but he was started to lose consciousness again.  
  
" _Shit._ " Peter cursed under his breath. "Mr. Stark, stay with me, ok? Don't move. I'm gonna get these cuffs off you. You're gonna be just fine."  
  
Tony's eyes slid open again. He was obviously fighting to stay awake. "Hmm.. alrighty. How're you gonna do that?"  
  
Peter crouched down to work on the first ankle cuff. He grabbed it on both sides and pulled, being careful to use just the right amount of strength. The cuff broke apart quite easily in his hands, like it was made of plastic. Mr. Stark's eyebrows shot up as he looked down at the boy; he was starting to come around.  
  
"Holy shit, kid. Remind me to not get on your bad side."  
  
Peter scoffed. "Too late." He was just about to get to work on the second cuff when Karen chimed in with an unwanted interruption.  
  
"Peter, hurry. All four heat signatures are now approaching the basement. I believe they heard you."  
  
Mr. Stark sucked in a raspy breath. Peter looked up into his eyes to see pure panic and fear.  
  
"Pete, get out of here. _Please_. We're outnumbered. These guys, they're armed, and their boss is Chitauri. He's the one who got me and he could be back any minute. There's no way you'll get me out in time. I just... I need you to be safe, okay? I _need_ you to run and not look back. I'll be fine."  
  
Peter looked furious. "Are you kidding me right now? No _way_ am I leaving you here. Forget it. I got this!"  
  
Mr. Stark's eyes hardened. "Peter, I'm not shitting around here. _Go!"_  
  
Peter jumped up as the basement door flew open and assumed his fighting pose. Four men charged in, each holding a weapon. They gathered around Peter and Tony.  
  
The largest man spoke in a menacing tone. "Well, well, if it isn't Spider Boy, Iron Man's little play thing. You can't do anything by yourself, can you Stark? Gotta call in your little bitch boy to rescue you?"  
  
Tony growled and struggled against his bonds. "Don't you _dare_ lay a single fucking finger on him or I swear to god you will never see the outside of a prison cell again."  
  
"Some pretty tough words coming from the guy strapped to a chair, eh boys?" The men laughed mockingly.  
  
Using the moment of distraction to his advantage, Peter quickly burst into action. He started jumping around the men, punctuating each move with a yell.

"Stop. Being. So. _RUDE!!!"_

Peter managed to grab three of the weapons - he flung them across the room and swiftly webbed up their owners against the walls.

But the big guy was too quick. He fired a shot directly at Peter's chest before he even saw it coming.  
  
"Peter, _MOVE!"_ Mr. Stark screamed, trying to lurch out if his chair. Peter had never heard his mentor sound so scared and desperate. He managed to flip out of the way just in time, but not fast enough to avoid the bullet lodging itself in his thigh.  
  
"SON OF A BISCUIT!" Peter screamed in pain as the bullet made contact.  
  
Karen chimed in. "Peter, I regret to inform you that you have been shot in the upper right thigh -"  
  
"I _KNOW_ , KAREN!" Peter exclaimed. He could feel warm blood gushing from the wound, dripping down his suit. But he didn't have time to worry about it now. He had been shot before and survived just fine. Right now, Mr. Stark needed him.  
  
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Peter dragged himself to his knees. Looking up, he saw his attacker towering over him, his gun pointed at Peter's head. This was decidedly not good.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Peter saw Tony squirming in his seat. He was cursing vehemently under his breath "This _fucking_ kid, I swear to god..."  
  
The man pressed the gun tighter to Peter's head. His thigh was throbbing and he was feeling lightheaded. Peter glanced over at Tony. He had so much to say. He wanted to tell him it was ok. He didn't blame him for anything. He was sorry. He loved him.  
  
"Stark," the man began in a jeering tone, "you know what comes next. Tell me what the boss needs to know. Otherwise you can kiss your little friend goodbye - hey, what the hell are you doing Stark? I'm talking to you!"  
  
Tony was bobbing his head up and down. Peter's first thought was that he might be having a seizure. He noticed that Mr. Stark was quickly wiggling his eyebrows and scrunching up his broken nose - then it hit him. Tony was trying to put his sunglasses on.  
  
The glasses were inching down from the top of his head. With one last nod, they fell into place over Tony's eyes. He winked at Peter through the semi-opaque lenses and turned his attention to the man holding the gun to his head.  
  
"I hear you, big guy." Mr. Stark said in a confident but strained voice. "But what if there's a third option here?"  
  
"What do you mean?" The man squinted suspiciously.  
  
"FRIDAY, let 'er rip."  
  
The sides of Tony's sunglasses suddenly flew open and shot out two tiny bullets at lightning speed. Before Peter even knew what was happening, his attacker was falling face down onto the concrete with an ugly crunch. His gun flew away out of his hand and slid across the room.  
  
The webbed up men yelled out in anger as their comrade hit the floor. Peter shot a web to cover each of their mouths without even looking. Their cries turned to muffled grunts.  
  
Peter fell backwards in shock, the pain from his wound almost forgotten with the adrenaline. He gaped and looked up at his mentor with fear and admiration.  
  
"Mr. Stark... that was the most _awesome_ thing I have _ever_ seen in my _entire life!"_  
  
Tony let out a deep, shakey breath. He looked like he was either going to cry or pass out.  
  
"Pete, you've been shot. You can tell me all about how cool I am later. Just get me out of these cuffs and let's get the hell out of here."  
  
Peter limped over and made quick work of removing the other three cuffs. He looked up at Tony with wide, concerned eyes as the man shook his wrists out.  
  
"Mr. Stark, did you.... is that dude... is he _dead?"_  
  
Tony shook his head at patted Peter's hand. "Don't worry, Bambi. I just tranqed him. He'll wake up in a couple hours and get right back to his favourite hobby: shooting teenagers. Help me up?"  
  
Peter grabbed Mr. Stark under the arms and helped lift him up to his feet, wincing in sympathy as the man groaned in pain; definitely some broken ribs there. Tony hunched over and put a hand on Peter's shoulder for support. He looked down at his thigh.  
  
"You're losing too much blood. Are you alright? Try to stem the bleeding, we'll get you some help soon."  
  
Peter shrugged and shot a web over his wound nonchalantly. It hurt, but the adrenaline helped and the bleeding was already slowing as the wound started to heal itself.

"Don't worry. Not the first time I've been shot."  
  
Tony raised his eyebrows. "That does _not_ make me feel better. We're coming back to that later. For now, let's try not get killed?" He looked around the room. "We'll leave through the window in case the other guy comes back. Can you web him up?" Tony gestured his head towards the sedated man on the floor, who Peter quickly secured.  
  
The injured heroes limped over to the back window, leaning heavily on each other. Wordlessly, Peter lifted Tony and hoisted him up to the window with ease, then climbed out himself onto the pavement. Peter and Tony stood up and made themselves as flat against the building as they could.  
  
"Wow, Mr. Stark." Peter whispered. "Is that keto diet working or what? You're light as a feather."  
  
Tony rolled his eyes and slung an arm around Peter's shoulders, keeping the boy close as his eyes darted around for signs of danger.  
  
"I called a suit, it should be here any second to carry us home. The key is cutting out gluten. Worked wonders for my energy levels."  
  
Tony let out an exhausted sigh of relief as he spotted the suit flying towards them. It landed in front of him with a quiet thud and opened up. Mr. Stark patted Peter on the shoulder before climbing into the suit.  
  
"Hang on tight, kid. We're outta here."  
  
Tony grabbed Peter under the arms and shot up into the sky.  
  


* * *

  
  
The next morning, Peter woke up in the hospital wing at the compound. He yawned and stretched his arms, sitting up in the comfortable bed. His thigh was bandaged up; it hurt a little, but the bullet was definitely gone and the tissue mostly healed.  
  
"Morning, kiddo. How're you feeling?"  
  
Mr. Stark was in the next bed, lying on top of the sheets with his sweats on. He was peering at Peter over his reading glasses.  
  
"Hey Mr. Stark! I'm all good. Are you ok?"  
  
Tony nodded. "Yup. Tired and sore, but all bandaged up. Won't heal quite as fast as you. But no lasting damage - other than the emotional scar of having the fear of the _Lord_ in me when you got shot."  
  
Peter laughed, throwing his head back against his pillow. "It's _fine_ , Mr. Stark! We got you out, that's all that matters. Hey, what happened anyway? What did that Chi-something guy want from you?"  
  
Tony shifted uncomfortably and swung his legs over the bed with care. "Now that, I can't tell you." He limped over and sat on the edge of Peter's bed. "What I _will_ tell you is that yesterday was the first time I ever used the emergency alert feature on those sunglasses. And the next time I have to use it, which will definitely happen because my life is insane, you will _not_ be on the list of people to contact. At LEAST until you're 25. The last thing I need is you getting yourself killed trying to save me."  
  
Peter smirked. "Hey, I didn't do _so_ bad..."

"You did amazing." Mr. Stark smiled proudly and put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "But you shouldn't have to put yourself on the line for an old man like me. Thank you, kid."

Peter smiled and looked out the window. Tony squeezed his shoulder and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.  
  
"Mr. Stark, you were pretty cool in there too. When you flipped your sunglasses down and toasted that huge guy? _So_ awesome. You're, like, a master escape artist."

Tony barked out a laugh. "Well, kid, it's not the first time I've been kidnapped."

"Well, Mr. Stark, it's not the first time I've had a gun to my head." Peter replied with a shit-eating grin.  
  
Tony face palmed and stood up, exasperated. "God _damnit_ , Pete, we were having such a nice moment. I cannot deal with this shit today..."  
  
Peter chuckled and sunk back into his pillows as he watched his mentor limp out of the room, shaking his head.

Sometimes, he thought to himself, things turn out alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!  
> i'll post the next story soon! <3


End file.
